The artist belongs to his work, not the work to the artist. Novalis (1772 – 1801)
The artist belongs to his work, not the work to the artist. Novalis (1772 – 1801)
A writer is a world trapped in a person. Victor Hugo (1802 – 1885)
This is excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune — often the surfeit of our own behaviour — we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as if we were villains by necessity: fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an […]
A pack of blessings lights upon thy back; Happiness courts thee in her best array; But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, Thou pout’st upon thy fortune and thy love; Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
Why rail’st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
All that we can ever aspire to is to become more and more one with God. Rabindranath Tagore (1861 – 1941)
And it shall be my endeavor to reveal Thee in my actions, knowing it is Thy power gives me strength to act. Rabindranath Tagore (1861 – 1941)
You are weaving your bondage of falsehood, your words are full of deception: With the load of desires which you hold on your head, how can you be light? Kabir (circa 1398 – 1518)
As the river enters into the ocean, so my heart touches Thee. Kabir (circa 1398 – 1518)
Truth has always had many loud proclaimers, but the question is whether a person will in the deepest sense acknowledge the truth, allow it to permeate his whole being, accept all its consequences, and not have an emergency hiding place for himself and a Judas kiss for the consequence. Soren Kierkegaard (1813 – 1855)